


Take Me to Church

by mouthydark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Concerned Sam, Dean is Not Amused, Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Feelings, Gen, M/M, Sneaky Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthydark/pseuds/mouthydark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel drank in the sight...It still looked just like Dean...But Castiel could smell the stink of hell underneath Dean's Old Spice and cheap cologne...The once Righteous Man had fallen very, very far....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_(i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies...)_

"You shouldn't have come here, Cas," the man sitting in the empty bar said quietly. He was sipping a whiskey even though it wasn't yet noon, and he made no move to get up from his barstool. Castiel just stood silently a few feet away with his hands balled tightly at his sides and waited for the demon to continue.

"Hey, Marty, you think you could take a smoke break or something, give me and my friend here a few minutes alone?" Dean asked the bartender, who nodded and quickly shuffled to some double doors that led into the back.

Dean sighed. "I told you and Sam to let me go. I really didn't wanna have to kill either one of you."

"Dean, I'm not here to fight you," Castiel said finally. "I am here because in all the years you have known me, is there anything, _anything_ , that I haven't given up for you?"

Castiel drank in the sight of his best friend. It still looked just like Dean, the same mossy green eyes, the same sandy light brown hair, the same broad shoulders and calloused hands. But Castiel could smell the stink of hell underneath Dean's Old Spice and cheap cologne, and knew this was a very different Dean. The once Righteous Man had fallen very, very far.

"So what are you sayin'," the demon asked with a sarcastic snort and squinted eyes. "You want to pretend nothing happened, keep being buddies? Angels and Demons, the sitcom?" He threw back his head and laughed. "It's like a...like a bad joke, an angel and a demon walk into a bar and..." He downed the rest of his drink, still chuckling "They walk into a bar and only one comes out alive. Because I gotta tell you, Cas, right now I'm having a very hard time not coming over there and ripping your throat out."

Castiel flinched at that. "Dean...I would rather have you in my life this way than not at all."

Dean stared at him, all humor gone, his face like a statue, and Castiel worried that coming here had possibly been a fatal mistake, though he still believed it was a risk that he had to take.

Dean twisted his mouth into a sneer. "Oh, _that's_ right, little angel. You have always been pretty in love with me, haven't you?" Dean laughed again, and it sounded cruel. "What, you think I didn't notice you eye-fucking me every time we got in the same room?"

Castiel kept his eyes on Dean's, trying not to betray his emotions, and said nothing. Dean wasn't wrong. Time and time again, Cas had given up everything for the human, and he knew that his behavior towards Dean meant something more than friendship. "So what if I am, Dean. I am here. I am not afraid of you. I am not sickened by what you have become. You and I have always been allies, even friends, and I am merely offering the same to you now," he said finally.

Dean stood up and took a small step towards Castiel, causing Castiel to take a step back in return. Dean chuckled. "Not scared of me, huh?"

Defiantly, Cas stepped forward and said, "No. I am not."

"So. You and me, Cas, we're just gonna pretend like it's the good old days, team free will, and all that shit, and what? Hang out? Kiss, cuddle, and fuck, a demon defiling his little angel?" Dean asked, his words like razor blades. "You wanna be my lap dog and worship me instead of that bastard you have called your Father since the dawn of time?"

Again, Castiel flinched at Dean's words as they cut through him. "No, Dean. I just want to be your friend again."

"Why, Cas? _You_ don't even know what I've done. I'm the kind of thing now that I used to hunt, and I _like_ it. Hell, I fucking _love_ it," he said as he took another step towards Castiel.

This time, Cas stood his ground."I don't care what you have done, Dean. I have never cared."

Dean moved quickly, and before Castiel even had time to react, Dean's mouth was on his own, tongue prying into Castiel's mouth, and for a moment Cas faltered, forgetting his true mission. He kissed Dean back feverishly, knotting his hands into the hair on the back of his head. Castiel knew that the human Dean would never, _could_ never, do this, and he reveled in the sensation for a moment, because yes, he did have feelings for Dean.

Dean roughly grabbed Castiel's arms, fingers digging in with a strength that could break bones. His mouth went to Castiel's neck, and for a moment, he believed Dean intended to make good on his promise of ripping his throat out. Castiel didn't flinch or try to move away, only held on tighter to the demon, pulling him closer. He felt Dean harden against his thigh.

As suddenly as it had started, though, it ended, and Dean pushed him away roughly, turning his back to him. Castiel put his hand in his trench coat pocket, waiting for whatever the demon would say or do next.

"Get out of here, Cas. Next time, I won't be so fuckin' sweet. Next time I _will_ tear your goddamn throat out. With my teeth," Dean growled. "I don't have time for a fucking pet."

Castiel knew that it was now or never, and not wanting to miss his chance, he wrapped one arm tightly around Dean. Concentrating all his stolen grace on the task, he became a holy vise, and said, "You really shouldn't have turned your back on me, Dean." He pulled the demon cuffs from his pocket and slammed them onto Dean's wrists one at a time as awful inhuman noises escaped Dean's throat. He growled, screamed, and bellowed so loudly that the clean glasses on the shelf behind the bar began to rattle. He sounded like the monster he had truly become.

Castiel turned him around and was unnerved to be looking into inky, hate-filled black pits instead of Dean's beautiful green eyes, though it was to be expected. "I don't want to be your pet, you stubborn bastard," Castiel spat.

"Come on. It's time to get you home," he said as he grabbed Dean's collar and began pushing the angry demon towards the door.


	2. Chapter 2

  _(i'll tell you my sins while you sharpen your knife)_

Sam was furious. Furious...but also terribly relieved. He couldn't believe the angel had gone alone to find Dean, and goddamned if he wasn't about to break down and cry. He hadn't seen his brother in months.

"I just...I can't believe you could be so _careless_ , Cas!" he exclaimed as he pulled the angel into a huge bear hug. "He could have killed you!"

Cas shrugged when Sam pulled away, and said simply, "I had to bring your brother back to you, Sam. And I want my friend back."

Dean was currently in the file room dungeon, cuffed to a chair and kept in check by a demon trap. He hadn't said a word to Sam or Castiel since Cas had brought him to the bunker, hadn't tried to resist as they pushed him into the wooden chair and cuffed his wrists and ankles down, only had glared at them both with hateful black eyes and a sneer.

"We have to try to cure him, Sam. We can't let him remain this...abomination," Castiel murmured seriously when they were out of his earshot.

Sam nodded and a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. "I know, Cas, I know. I have to run get some supplies, and then we can start," he replied. "I don't...I don't know how to thank you, man." He clamped a hand down on Cas's shoulder, then turned to leave.

\-----------

Sam went to a pharmacy in town and picked up a huge bag of hypodermic needles.

Next, he donned hospital worker's scrubs, and using a fake ID, found his way inside the blood bank at the hospital. He called in a favor to a local priest, who met him there. "Sammy my boy, I'm not even going to ask why you need me to do this, but you know I owe you one for helping me out with that little spirit problem at the church a while ago," the white haired man of the cloth said, shaking his head before blessing gallons and gallons of blood.

Once Sam had the things he needed, he rushed back to the bunker, half expecting Dean to be gone and Castiel to be dead, but everything was as he'd left it.

Cas was waiting patiently in the library. "Are we ready?" Castiel asked, nodding towards the huge cooler of blessed blood.

Sam let out a shaky breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in and ran a hand through his long hair. "Yeah, man, let's bring Dean back."

\----------

Dean, of course, wasn't really Dean. Sam had to keep telling himself that to keep from breaking down entirely. At the first injection of blessed blood, Dean had stopped being silent and started saying the worst things he could think of to Sam. Some were horrible lies, and some were even more horrible truths.

"You think I give a _shit_ about you, Sammy?" Dean growled. "You were my fucking _burden_ , and the best months of my life have been the months without you in 'em." He howled with laughter.

Another time he went on an endless tirade about how Sam had killed their mother because he was a freak, a freak who needed to be "put down before he could kill anybody else's mommy."

Still another time, Dean said, "You let out Lucifer, you let out Lucifer," in a soft, deep sing-song voice.

Through it all, Sam remained silent, kept giving him injections every hour, then turned to leave Dean alone. Every time, he would sag into the wall outside the door and hold in the sobs threatening to break past his throat.

Two days later, there was no change in Dean. Every time an injection was given, he screamed like every demon in hell was trying to crawl up his throat, and then he would continue taunting Sam like nothing had happened.

"Cas, what if it isn't working. What if it's killing him?" Sam asked the second morning.

"He would be better off _dead_ than to remain that thing. But allow me to come down with you, and I will assess the situation," Castiel responded, troubled.

Once in the room, Dean started relentlessly in on Castiel. "Ohhh, little angel, do you like seeing me like this? Do you like me in _chains_? Do you want to come over and suck me dry while I can't resist?" His laughter thundered throughout the bunker.

Sam gazed at Castiel with questions in his eyes, but Cas quickly looked away, and placed a hand on Dean's forehead. "Mmmm, Cassie, you wanna touch me don't ya. Want my hot tongue in your mouth again? What do you say we ditch the Sasquatch and you can _grip me tight and raise me from perdition_?" His voice was thick with feigned lust.

Castiel removed his hand, ignoring his words. "I believe the treatments are working. His demon essence is definitely weaker, but he was so strong at the beginning that the process will take much longer than for a low-level demon." Sam nodded, lips pressed tightly together.

"I. DON'T. WANT. TO. BE. CURED!" Dean roared. "FUCK YOU BOTH! LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING TRAP, YOU CUNTS! EVEN IF YOU FIX ME, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Sam jumped, and then he and Castiel hurried from the room, slamming the door behind them. After calming down a little back in the library, Sam finally brought it up.

"So...why is he saying all that shit to you, Cas? I mean, I know why he's saying what he does to me, but it was almost like he was...flirting with you back there."

Castiel cautiously met Sam's eyes. "It doesn't matter. He is just trying to make us both uncomfortable and to weaken our resolve," he said finally.

"Yeah, but man, that was pretty intense. He asked if you wanted his tongue in your mouth... _again_ ," countered Sam, still curious.

Castiel sighed deeply. "The demon kissed me just before I trapped him. _He_ kissed _me_ , and now he is using it against me," he said as if it made him sad and sick at the same time, but he wouldn't elaborate further.

On the fourth day straight of injections every hour on the hour, Dean's body became limp. Sam slapped his face gently to try to bring him to. When Sam leaned in to inspect his brother closer, his black eyes shot open, and he latched his teeth into Sam's forearm.

Castiel ran forward and he began to punch Dean repeatedly in the side of the head until he released his grip on Sam's arm. He had blood running down his chin and his teeth were stained crimson.

"You are positively tasty, Sammy," he said, smacking his lips. "I do believe I can still detect a little bit of Yellow Eyes coursing through your veins."

Once back upstairs, Castiel patched up Sam's arm as Sam finally broke down and wept. He didn't cry because of the pain in his flesh, oh no, he was used to much worse. He cried because he felt like he had finally lost Dean for good. Cas wrapped him in his arms, and soothingly said, "Shhh, Sam, it's ok. It's going to be ok."  Sam didn't believe him.

On the fifth day, Dean didn't say much at all. He stared at Sam and Castiel with his eyebrows drawn together and only spoke when spoken to. Instead of screaming with every injection, he only turned his head and winced. He seemed weak, and he looked terrible. Sam wondered if this would be the day the "cure" would kill his brother. He had given up hope that it was ever going to fix him. That evening, after the one hundred and fourteenth injection, Dean's eyes went completely black. He sat there staring at nothing, his back as straight and stiff as a board, and then he began to convulse violently in his chair.

"Dean!" Sam cried as he raced over and grabbed Dean's face in his hands, not caring if it was another trick. So this was it. His brother was dying.

Dean stopped shaking. He went limp. Sam had tears streaming down his face. Castiel was holding his breath.

Finally, Dean raised his head and opened his eyes. Sam could see the black swirling away, returning to Dean's pure green. They stared at each other for a moment. Castiel grabbed the holy water and splashed it into Dean's face, and almost started crying himself when there was no reaction.

Dean shook his head a little to get the water out of his eyes, then said, "Hiya fellas. You both look a little worried..."


	3. Chapter 3

_(offer me my deathless death, good god let me give you my life...)_

A few days later, Dean was lying on his bed wearing headphones with the volume cranked up as loud as it could go. He wanted to drown out the guilt he was feeling, he supposed. He knew the things he said to Sammy and Cas were all kinds of fucked up.

Sam had gone on a quick hunt, but had left Dean behind because he was "still too weak," as Sam put it. Dean thought that was bullshit, and that his brother just wasn't ready to trust him quite yet. Dean didn't really blame him.

Castiel was somewhere in the bunker, avoiding Dean as much as possible while also making sure Dean didn't take off in the middle of the night to go do demon shit.

Dean knew why Cas was avoiding him. He had taunted the angel relentlessly about his feelings for him. Feelings Dean had known about for ages, but they had never bothered him in all the time the human and angel had been friends. And now Dean had thrown them back in Cas's face. Kissed him even! He remembered liking the kiss, remembered Cas's hands in his hair and becoming hard as a rock. Had that been the demon, or had that been Dean? He was still completely confused about that kiss.

He would have to find a way to make things right with Cas. He didn't want to lose his best friend, especially when Castiel had risked everything to save him. Multiple times. "Shit," Dean whispered, and ran a hand down his face.

Dean had never been so conflicted in his life. He was beyond happy to be human again, but goddamned if he hadn't made a huge mess of things in the process.

\-----------

Two days later, Dean hung up the phone after talking with Sam. He was on his way back from getting a poltergeist out of a house with kids in it and said he would be home tomorrow night. Dean was proud of him for handling it on his own, but he missed him and was looking forward to seeing him.

He and Cas still hadn't said more than five words to each other, but Dean wanted that handled before Sammy got back. Besides, he had spent the last week solid obsessing about that kiss and what it meant. He knew the demon in him had done it to mess with Cas...but he was pretty sure the residue of feelings that it had left behind was all Dean.

He stood at the stove in the kitchen wearing sweat pants and a gray hoodie, his hair a mess. He was cooking bacon while singing Black Dog by Zepplin completely out of tune and pounding out the beat on the counter with his greasy spatula, when he felt a presence behind him.

He turned, and Castiel was standing there looking at him, head tilted slightly. "Hey, Cas. I'm glad you're here. We need to talk," he said.

\----------

Castiel's heart hurt at the sight of him, hair messy from sleep, belting out that ridiculous song. Dean was beautiful.

"There is nothing to talk about Dean. I know you weren't yourself last week. I just came to say, I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," Castiel replied tensely, hoping his emotions were veiled. "I would very much like it if things could just go back to normal."

Dean shook his head. "I don't think things can go back to normal, buddy."

Cas's shoulders slumped. His heart started pounding painfully fast. "Would you like me to leave, Dean?" he said softly.

Dean threw up his hands defensively, and cried out, "No no no, that's not what I mean!" He looked at his feet. "I have known for a long time, for years, that you felt a certain way about me. When I was..." Dean cleared his throat, "when I was a demon, I used your feelings against you. I am a total shit for that, Cas. That's on me."

Cas was relieved. "It's alright, Dean. Really."

"Only it isn't alright, Cas, not really. I can't get that kiss out of my head," Dean stammered. "I think I liked it."

"Oh," Cas said slowly. He continued to stand there awkwardly, kind of wishing he could be any place but the bunker kitchen. He looked at Dean suspiciously, wondering if the demon was back and messing with him again. "I just don't know, Dean."

"Cas, it's me, I promise you that," Dean said, stepping towards the angel. Dean grabbed Cas's hand and placed it over his heart. "This is beating again. Because of you. When I was in hell, you pulled me out. When I was a demon, you risked everything to save me." He paused. "You have _always_ saved me."

Dean looked into Castiel's eyes expectantly. He coughed, and suddenly he seemed shy. "Well...I just had to tell you. I need you to know that I think I feel the same way you do. It took me becoming a fucking monster to figure it out, but...well, there it is, I guess. Do with that info what you will."

Cas focused his bright blue eyes on Dean's green ones, looking for a hint of black within and trying to determine if Dean's words were the truth. Finally, he leaned forward and gently kissed Dean's lips. Dean didn't turn away, but instead, wrapped his arms around Cas's waist to pull him closer and kiss him back.

When they parted, Cas, a little breathless, said, "Your bacon is burning."

Dean was completely flushed, a small smile on his lips. "Cas, I don't give a shit about the bacon."

Cas gave him one of his rare brilliant smiles, and Dean laughed quietly then kissed him again.

Ten minutes later, the bunker reeked of burned bacon, but Cas and Dean were in his bedroom, completely oblivious. Dean had had sex more times than he could count with various women, but for the first time ever, he felt like he was making love. He couldn't explain it, but...for the first time in his whole miserable life, Dean felt like he was finally home.


End file.
